The End
by Rinon Toros
Summary: SPOILERS. Just a basic rewrite of the ending of FFIX.


**title**: The End.   
**disclaimer**: Squaresoft!   
**rating**: G.   
**paring**: Zidane/Garnet.   
**feedback**: Hai, hai. If you must. ._.; Though, really.. I don't care for it.   
**date**: In September, or October, I think.   
**other**: Personally, I think the beginning is writen really nicely, though fades into lazy, and sloppy work. Probably because it was 4 in the morning when I had started, and I had began to drift towards the end. ^^; Also, it is the ending of FFIX. Therefore, **SPOILER** filled. 

  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  


"Marcus," Quietly, and even hesitantly, the voice inquired, eyes beseeching. And, instantaniously -- almost as if on cue, the man had stepped onto the anything but cluttered stage, and continued towards the woman, awkwardly dressed within a completely concealing garb of black, shaping into a cloak. 

She had smiled, and stepped towards him, arms opening for an embrace, "Sweet Marcus, I fear I love thee more than I should!" 

The man had folded her into an embrace as she wordlessly requested, folding a single hand against the back of her neck, and encircling her waist with the other. "Princess.. wilt thou be happy, married to a lowly peasant such as I?" 

The act continued, and the woman had pulled away, posing dramatically, making it appear as though she were distressed, "Prithee, call me 'princess' no more!" The words had abruptly stopped, and the woman pivoted on her foot, turning away quickly, "Marcus, wilt thou truly cherish me, the king's only daughter? Or is such a desire too fear too wish for?!" Her breath had caught in her throat, and the words had slowly became shaken, and weak, "After our nuptials, shall I become no more than a puppet? A mindless puppet, never to laugh, never to cry?" 

The slender face had turned upwards, facing the artificial roofing, the reflection of a painted-on dual moon illuminating her face. "I wish to live my life under the sky. At times I shall laugh, at other times cry. For no life is more insincere than that lived as a masquerade." 

The man appeared to give this a split-second of thought, before, again, stepping forward. "So much consideration thou hast given it! But worry not," The man had smiled beneath the cloak, and embraced the woman once again. "Cast away thy trappings of royalty, and I shall swaddle thou in a gown of pure love! Never again will I part from thee!" The hug didn't cease, but instead, tightened, and the woman had leant her head against the man's covered shoulder, "Pray, my love, make me thy canary to keep forever in the cage of thy bosom! Let us embark on the first ship tomorrow, before dawn can tell of our elopement!" 

A smile also began to form upon the lips of the woman, and she slowly pulled away, murmuring out the words loudly, "All my fortunes at thy foot, I lay, and I shall follow thee throughout the world!" 

The man stepped back a foot, and then another, bowing his head respectfully. "No cloud, no squall shall hinder us!" Quietly, and quickly, the man had walked off stage, vanishing into the darkness, though temporarily. 

Once the man had left, the woman turned, and once again, formed another dramatic pose, looking more in thought, and strained. "O, love is the sweetest joy and the wildest woe. All I wish is to be by my sweet Marcus's side." 

Across the stage, crouched another man, eavesdropping on the conversation of the lovers. An obvious sinister, yet righteous disposition clung to his self. 

"Fie! It shall be war again unless this marriage is stopped. Ne'er will I let their plan come to fruition." Muttering, the new man stood up straight, walking towards the aforementioned woman. "Good day to ye, Highness." 

She was startled by the sudden appearance, though hid it well. Slowly, she turned to face him, bowing her head excruciatingly lightly, words coming out slow, and once again hesitantly, "Good day.." 

The new man had continued towards her, until he was a breath ways away. "Wist thee of Marcus?" 

Shock shot through the frail form of the woman, and a hand raised to her mouth, eyes widening in horror. "Marcus?! What news dost thou bring?" 

"This!" The man responded cruely, and pushed forward to punch the woman in the stomach, bringing out an audiable 'ugh.' And then, she had collapsed, and the man had gathered her up into his arms, and skittered off. 

Void. The man cloaked in black had immediately noticed this as he had made his way back up onto the stage. Where was his love? He took a brief moment to look around, before becoming rather distressed -- which easily shown through his stance. 

"The time for our departure is long past. Where is Cornelia?" The cloaked man had paused to frown heavily, casting a glance this-a-way, and that, though finding nothing. Another man hastily walked onto the stage, and directly towards the cloaked man. 

"Marcus, the ship soon embarks! Board ye the boat alone, and peace could come to both kingdoms, as Blank so said." The new man partially ordered, and partially begged. This was his friend, and he was loyal to this woman, Cornelia! Neither should ever have to come to any harm! "Speak, Marcus!" 

The cloaked man turned, facing his friend, responding solomnly, "She told me that she could not live without me." 

The darkness faded as those words were said, growing bright, birds forming in the artificial sky. "So, the sun is our enemy, too. The eastern sky grows bright. Will we not spread our wings, as yonder birds in joyous flight?" 

"Hark, Marcus," The other man cried out, "They cannot wait any longer! The ship departs!" 

The man ignored, as his friend ran off the stage, enveloped in his own thoughts, "Could she have betrayed me? Nay, ne'er would my love speak false. I must have faith! She shall appear if I only believe!" 

He turned towards the sun, and the dual moons that hung in the artificial sky, offering both arms in a begging gesture. "As the sun sends me no ear, I pray instead to the twin moons," Now, this man cried out, his tone raising to an almost unhappy wail, "I beseech thee, wodnerous moonlight, grant me my only wish!" 

Slowly, he turned, hands sliding towards his own neck. Fingers intertwined with the fabric that surrounded him, and swiftly, the fabric was tugged upward. Faces immediately paled, or brightened, as beneath the cover, wasnt what most expected. 

Long, honeyed flaxen strands replaced the bandana covered hair, and bright, azure hued oculars shone, focused on a single target. Slender, and athletic.. The appearance was easily ignored, by the next words that had been cried out, "Bring my beloved Dagger to me!" 

Those dark eyes had widened in disbelief, and the Queen would've very well screamed, if her breath hadn't caught in her throat. Replacing the scream, was the immediate urge to get to her feet, and run. To find her place in his arms. 

Though, arms had blocked her path. Smiling before her, were the people whom she considered bestfriends, and body guards. Those arms had pulled back just in time, and once again, her feet were carrying her at a shockingly fast pase, pushing past the next set of doors, past the next group of soldiers.. 

She wouldn't stop. No, she _couldn't_. Not even when the pendant she wore about her neck was sharply jerked away by her movements, and tumbled to the ground, did she stop for long. Why? The pendant wasn't needed. She would very well forfiet her ranking as queen, if it meant a life with the one she loved, and as proof of this, the tiara was tugged from her hair, by her own hands, and thrown to the ground. 

Her next steps brought her into what could be described as a leap, and welcoming, gentle hands had caught her, spinning her sixty degrees, before setting her down. Tears gathered in her eyes, and begged to spill -- he could see this, and he quickly made way to wrap an arm about her waist, smoothing her hair out, and pushing her head towards his shoulder gently. 

She was overwhelmed by these feelings. Hatred for the people of Terra for taking him away, fear for knowing that he could be hurt, or could've been, worry for the fact that maybe something like that would happen again, and, longing, for the love she could've given, and recieved while he was away. 

A frail hand balled into a fist, and she hit his chest, once, twice, three, and four times, bringing him to cringe. 

"Z-- Wh--," Words still were caught with the breath in her throat. She couldn't see the crowd off to the side of them jumping to their feet, cheering, and howling for the two. He smiled, shrugging in responce to her studdered, partial question, and resumed his embrace. 

The crowd continued to cheer. And she let her tears go, clinging to the one she had so missed.. 

It was ironic, yet suiting. Slender fingers had encircled his wrist, once she had pulled away. And, where had she led him? To her mother's grave, in which she had dubbed her resting place. Where she had made her second true decision. Where he, and the female general, had helped her regain confidence in herself with that jewel. Where her most treasured, bodily asset was sliced away.. 

She had knelt just before the water, folding her hands into her lap immediately. She had so much to ask him! So much to scold him for! So many hugs! There were so many words that needed to be exchanged. Though, the one question that nagged, and begged, was the first to come, "How did you survive..?" 

He had followed her every step, moving only to sit off to the right side of her. Eyes watched as she struggled with her thoughts, trying to decide as fast as possible on what to inquire first. And, as the question came out, he broke his gaze away from her, focusing on the water. "I didn't have a choice. I had to live," He began slowly, oblivious to the fact that she had turned to face him. "I wanted to come home to you." 

An abrupt surge of joy formed, and fluttered, and she had gathered up a handful of her skirts, digging her fingers into the folds as though it would keep her from crying. She even had turned to focus on the water, as well. 

His features had brightened ten fold, though the faintest blush had formed. "So.. I sang your song," His hand had reached over, and placed itself over her own, fingers curling between the fabric of her skirts, and the palm of her hand. "Our song." 


End file.
